the other america and catch 22 until billets raining on kennedy and dallas during the east st. louis of his life. what did he know? how did we get here quiet what kept us moving? who kept us moving? miles davis is one of the people who kept me moving. he and i went to the same high school as did one of the pioneers up on the hill. but for moral service, we couldn't get a spot on the sidewalk, not to mention trying to get a seat in lincoln high school, where he graduated in 1944 and was one of two teenagers of the black community at juilliard. that may be her record. i read a long poem of which all recite. trust up and came began a scenario climb up the tribal stairwell. greeks, radiant at the at the at the, spread like laughter or ethiopia's wings. more in its own percussive rise became the st. louis area. bore witness to the calm, the careless silence, the casket to tears, that death of the crew became the burden of an ancestor. hear y'all, the death of the two became the birth of an ancestor. and many of the newspapers that covered that memorial had headlines in kansas city,